People Round Here
by MickTheTrick
Summary: "What's your name, cowboy?" "Escobar." "You got a first name?" "Edilio. You?" "Well, 'round here they call me The Artful Roger." REDILIO WESTERN AU, MULTICHAP
1. Introductions

**A/N: Okay okay, I know what you're thinking. Really, Mick? A Western AU? and to you I say yes. Yes of course.**

**I clearly do not own GONE because Dekka and I aren't married. That's Michael Grant's thing. Criticism is always welcome.**

**-MickTheTrick**

**The sun was beating down on Edilio's back as he rode into town. He'd been out riding since dawn and he was dying for something to drink. He pulled up into a bar just a little past the town gates.**

**The inside of the bar was nothing to write home about. Hell, it was shabby at best, but he was in no place to be picky, so it'd have to do.**

**The bartender was a young man, about the same age as Edilio, but not quite as tall and not nearly as strong. His curly blonde hair was slicked back on his head, except for a loose tuft that hung on his forehead, and his face was freckled from the sun.**

**"What'll it be, sir?" The man's voice came out smooth and light, tinted with an ever so slight Southern Drawl.**

**"Scotch. On the rocks." He pulled out his gun to clean. The bartender's eyes widened and he took a step back.**

**"Calm down there, compadre. I don't bite." He raised his hands as a sort of peace offering."**

**"So," the man said. "What's your name, cowboy?"**

**"Escobar."**

**"You got a first name?"**

**"Edilio. You?"**

**"Well, 'round here they call me The Artful Roger, but just Roger'll do fine."**

**"Pleasure to make your accquaintance, Just Roger. Now, how about that drink?"**

**SO YEAH that was chapter one. I definitely intend on continuing this. Blame Michael Grant for giving Edilio that cowboy hat.**


	2. Not Mexican

**A/N: Here we are... Blazing the glorious trail that is chapter 2. This one goes out to the BOTB team, because they could use a picker-upper right about now.**

**I don't own GONE, I wouldn't have done that to the King.**

****It had been 3 days since Edilio had met the strange bartender Roger, and it had been 3 days since he had been able to take his mind off of him. He had done his best to stay in this town, but what little money he had, he was quickly running out of. He needed to find work fast.

He'd seen a ranch a little ways down from where he was staying a few days ago. He figured it would be as good a place to work as any. There was a man standing outside the gate. He looked Edilio up and down.

"Sorry, amigo," he said. "No hablo Espanol."

"I'm looking for a job."

"Well then, you oughta think about headin' back down to Mexico. We ain't got no jobs for illegal immigrants round here." Suddenly, he felt a prescence behind him.

"This clown givin' you trouble?" The man spit a mouthful of chewing tobacco onto the ground.

"Aw, you let us men alone, Lana. I don't need you pokin' around my ranch. Anyway, there's nothin' going on. I was just tellin' La Tigre here that we ain't got no work here for... His kind." The woman crossed her arms.

"Oh really, Drake?" She said. "No jobs? Because I seem to recall you sayin' you needed yourself a new stable buck." She looked to Edilio. "Can you do that?" He nodded.

"Well then. Give 'im his papers, Merwin." Drake's face hardened.

"I already told you, Lana. I ain't hirin' no damn Mexican."

"I'm not Mexican." Edilio said. "My folks are from Honduras, and I was born in California."

"See? Not a Mexican bone in his body. Now give the man his papers before I have to bring my daddy round to knock some sense into you." Drake grumbled something inaudible before dissapearing into the ranch behind him.

"Thanks. I really owe you one, miss."

"Aw, shucks. You don't owe me nothin'." She held out her hand. "Lana Lazar."

"Edilio Escobar."

**Yeeeeeah I wanted to put Lana in this really badly, so... I did.**


	3. What's Cookin Good Lookin

A/N:** This one goes out to DianaSoren, burning happiness, and two other losers without acccounts for being real troopers and laughing at my storyboard.**

**Yada yada don't own GONE yada witty comment yada**

Edilio finished locking in the last horse. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and sat down on a bale of hay in the corner of the stable.

"Hey there, cutie. All finished up here?" Lana, the milkmaid, stood in the doorway. Edilio smiled.

"Hey, Lana. Yeah, just got done."

"Well then, I got a proposition for ya'. How's about you and me go get ourselves a coupla drinks?"

"Well, alright. But strictly business." She laughed and slapped his back.

"Sure thing, sherrif. Strictly business."

When they walked through the doors of the bar, they were hit by the sound of screaming men and the stench of old beer. Lana grabbed them two seats by the counter.

"Well, well, well," began the bartender. "If it isn't one Mr. Escobar." Edilio smiled and tipped up his hat.

"Roger. This here's Lana. She works on the ranch with me." Roger took her hand.

"Enchanted, miss." Lana smirked.

"Save it, barkeep. I ain't interested." He laughed slightly uncomfortably to himself.

"Yeah, sure." He turned his attention back to Edilio. "So, what'll it be Vaquero?"

"Hm..." Edilio leaned forward onto the counter. "Surprise me."

"And for the lady?"

"I guess I'll have what he's havin'."

They sat talking and drinking for a good twenty minutes before Drake came in.

"Just where the hell have the two of you been?"

"Calm down, we've only even been out a half hour. We were all done workin', so we reckoned we'd come down here for something to drink. No harm done." Drake spit out a vicious laugh

"No harm done, huh? You got some nerve, Escobar."

"Sir," Roger stepped in. "If there's a problem, please take it outside."

"You stay the hell out of this, you god damned queer.

Drake's face was already covered in blood by the time he hit the floor.

"You say one more word, and I won't hesitate to end your miserable life right now." Drake struggled to his feet.

"I want you two back at the ranch in 15 minutes. No later."

"I ought to fire you. You know that? In fact, I think I will."

"I wouldn't do that, sir."

"And just why the hell not?"

"Well, if I were you, I wouldn't exactly want to go around telling people I got my face busted in by... Well, anyone really. But I especially wouldn't want anyone knowing I got my face busted in by a queer Mexican, now would I?" Drake's face contorted in anger

"Just don't let it happen again."

"So, what happened? Did ya' get the can?

"Nah, convinced him to let me stay." Lana sighed.

"Thank god." She grabbed his hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you 'round here." She leaned in, like she was going to kiss him.

"Woah, woah, listen Lana. I'm really not interested."

"So... You really are like that, aren't you?" Edilio nodded. He held out his hand.

"Friends?" She shook it.

"Best."

**Yeeeah, Mick the update King. Sorry if the formatting's a bit weird.**


	4. Lovesick Crackhead

**A/N: Let me open by apologising for how long it's been. I've been reading a lot of TMI and playing a lot of Dangan Ronpa and I kind of lost track of, well, everything.**

**Hey ho, let's go, hey ho, I don't own GONE.**

Over the past few weeks Drake had seen less and less of his workers. Edilio would shoot right off to the bar after he finished up his work. If he didn't know better, he'd think the kid was an alcoholic. He wondered if that was better than being... in Edilio's situation. He shuddered. His entire working staff consisted of himself, an Indian, a woman and a queer Mexican.

Drake needed this problem dealt with, and fast.

aeiouaeiouaeiou

At some point, even he wasn't sure of when, it had become impossible for Edilio to stay away from Roger and his bar. He needed to see him. He couldn't go a day without seeing him.

"So Mr. Escobar... You got yourself a lady friend?" Edilio chuckled.

"No, uh, not really my thing." Roger smiled down at him.

"Yeah, me neither."

"Well, ain't that somethin'."

"Sure is."

aeiouaeiouaeiou

As soon as Lana walked into Drake's office, she wished she hadn't. He was standing over his desk, cleaning a gun.

"Drake? What are you doin' with that thing?" He looked up at her.

"Mind your own damn business, Lana." Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't you go gettin' ideas, Merwin. If you're plannin' anything against that man, I swear, you'll come to regret it."

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the hell outta this."

aeiouaeiouaeiou

"Hello, Virtue. The sherrif around?"

"Right this way." Lana was led down a long hallway, and eventually to a door. When she opened it, there was a dim light hanging overhead. There was a man sitting at a desk, holding a stack of papers and idly nursing a cigarette.

"Sherrif?" The man tipped his hat up.

"Please, ma'am." He took a drag of the cigarette hanging from his mouth. "Call me Caine."


End file.
